


save a ship (ride a pirate)

by majorshipper



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Bathroom Sex, F/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-16
Updated: 2013-10-16
Packaged: 2017-12-29 13:51:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1006202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majorshipper/pseuds/majorshipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma and Killian are stuck at the Storybrooke Ball, and teasing ensues. And ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	save a ship (ride a pirate)

**Author's Note:**

> God this is smutty. That's all I got.

Emma would swear on her life he did it on purpose. There was no way it wasn’t intentional. Absolutely no way.

It was impossible to sit like that and _not_ know what you were doing. 

If she wasn’t in a stupid dress and they weren’t in a _very_ public place, she might give him a taste of his own medicine. But even she wasn’t that reckless. She couldn’t just splay her arms and legs out like an octopus and get away with it. 

But he could. Fucking bastard.

And he looked absolutely _sinful_ doing it. She had managed to get him into normal clothes(and, after several attempts, had managed to keep herself from getting him _out_ of said clothes), but he still looked every inch the rakish pirate. He wore a simple black button-down, the cuffs rolled up enough to expose his forearm and the cuff of his brace, top button open wide to reveal to everyone that he was not very fond of the idea of undershirts. The way his arms were thrown over the back of the chair, forearms resting against the metal, pulled at the line of buttons down his chest and emphasized the way the shirt clung to his shoulders. And his jeans. That was the _real_ problem. Apparently after centuries of wearing tight leather pants, he couldn’t shake the idea that all pants should be that snug-fitting, and when he’d walked out of the dressing room wearing _those_ , she’d nearly had a goddamn heart attack. The dark-wash looked amazing on him; not quite black, but deep enough to cast him in shadows.

Emma had never been in the habit of appreciating legs or asses or how well they looked in pants that men wore, but she had to make exceptions in his case. She couldn’t put her finger on what exactly it was, but there was just something about seeing him strut around that made it hard to think properly.

At least, she consoled herself, sneaking another look at his relaxed display of arms and legs, she wasn’t exactly feeling too shabby herself. It was some fancy event that had been organized as a cross between a ball and a good-old-fashioned town get together, something only the residents of Storybrooke could concoct and successfully pull off. If it had been up to Emma, she would be at home right now with her pirate. But it was her mother’s idea, and Henry loved the pomp and circumstance and having his grandmother teach him how to waltz.

So she was here, wearing a bright coral-colored dress with no back and a skirt far too short for the kind of dancing taking place in the cleared-out area at the center of the tables. 

And she was being taunted by a pirate. 

She knew he was doing it on purpose, especially as he shifted and scooted down further in the chair, shirt riding up as he splayed his legs even wider.

"Stop squirming," Emma murmured, leaning closer to him to catch his eye.

That was her first mistake.

He tilted his gaze back to her, amusement evident in his smirk. 

"Am I bothering you?" His eyes raked down her body appreciatively, eyes sliding against the curves of her dress, lingering on the hem hovering over her thighs. When he finally pulled his eyes up to her face again he quirked an eyebrow suggestively. "Because that dress is certainly bothering me."

Emma rolled her eyes even as she felt herself flush under his gaze, warmth spreading over her skin. They were in the middle of a very public event; he should not be undressing her with his eyes. There were lots of things he shouldn't be doing here, and he was not only blatantly ignoring them, but he was flaunting his disregard for social graces, trying to seduce the sheriff in front of the entire town.

Admittedly, thought, Emma realized as she looked around, there wasn't exactly anyone watching them. Everyone was too wrapped up in the dancing and celebrating taking place across the room to notice the two of them, tucked away in a corner. 

Still, as much as Emma thrived on danger and rulebreaking, this wasn't exactly the kind of thing she had in mind.

"You're being indecent." She met his gaze with a glare, but he merely chuckled lowly. 

“If I was _truly_ being indecent,” he whispered, leaning towards her as his hand found her knee and started to travel up her leg, “I wouldn’t let a _dress_ stop me.” His thumb flicked out against the hem of her dress, briefly lifting it before he curved his fingers around the inside of her thigh, teasingly brushing under the fabric. 

Emma grit her teeth and gingerly removed his hand from her leg. 

“ _Public_ ,” she hissed, firmly tugging her dress down her legs in a vain attempt to keep his wandering appendages away from her. 

“ _Pirate_ ,” he shot back, just as quietly with a smug look on his face.

“Sooner or later, that excuse will stop working,” she commented wryly, again catching his wandering hand where it was trying to slip around her side under her dress. 

Leaning in, he tilted his head until his lips brushed her shoulder and neck. “Oh, love, I don’t know, I think you quite enjoy me as a _pirate_. You seemed to enjoy it just the other night…and I’m sure I could make you enjoy it again.” 

She grit her teeth and swatted at him, desperately trying ignore the way his words were stirring inside of her, sending heat rushing straight between her legs. “Knock it off, I’m serious.”

“Oh, I’m serious too, love,” he purred, catching her eye as though he was just begging her to see if he was lying.

He wasn’t.

The insufferable _bastard_.

The worst part was she wanted nothing more than to hike her dress up and sink down on him, inch by delicious inch. Few things in her life were quite as intoxicating as the way his fingers would cling to her hip, or his hooded eyes would inevitably trail down to where they were joined, the way he slid in and out of her so smoothly.

Oh god, she could feel herself getting wet at the thought, the memories of last time.

Desperate for anything else to think of, she cast around for a suitable topic. 

“So, do you know how to dance?” 

That was the actual worst thing she could have picked. She was _terrible_ at this. 

Killian raised an eyebrow at her, as though suddenly questioning her sanity.

“Of course I can, darling. Wouldn’t be very much of a gentleman if I couldn’t, would I?” He flicked his eyes over her, trailing them again down the neckline of her dress. “Why, would you like me to _teach_ you?” His tone implied he would be teaching her quite a lot, and not a bit of it would have anything to do with dancing.

Emma rolled her eyes. He was so predictable. “Thanks, but I think I know how to _dance_.” Deciding to turn the tables on him in that moment, she fluttered her eyes and looked back at him. “I was under the impression you enjoyed my dancing.”

Not missing a beat, he leered back at her. “Aye, you do know how to use those legs of yours, don’t you?” He licked his lips, as though remembering how exactly it felt to have her legs wrapped around him.

Well, Emma assumed that was what he was thinking about. It certainly was what _she_ was thinking about.

Somehow, without her noticing, his hand had managed to find its way inside the open back of her dress, and his fingers were now stroking against her side, the touch shooting sparks down her bare skin.

“Killian,” she muttered warningly, though it didn’t quite have the effect she was hoping for. His hand slipped further inside her dress, drifting down over her hip, just brushing the top of her ass. 

“Yes,” he asked, voice dripping with innocence. “Was there something you needed, love?”

She wasn’t exactly sure if she wanted to slap that smug look off his face or fuck it off, but she wanted it _gone_. It wasn’t exactly subtle when she reached for his thigh, gripping it hard, but it had the desired effect. His eyes shot wide, fingers stiffening on her skin. 

“Emma,” he growled, and slid his hook under her wrist, not moving her hand away, but a distinct warning.

“What? I thought you didn’t have any problem with the fact that we’re in _public_?” She smirked when he shifted his hips, her fingers brushing against the growing bulge in his jeans. Slowly, she moved her hand, not missing the way his eyes tracked her movement. He didn’t move his hook though as she slid her hand further against him until she was cupping him through his pants.

He didn’t say anything, just let out a low gasp, his eyes meeting hers. They were wide and dark, blue bright against the black of his pupils. His nails scraped across her hip as he pulled her tight against his side. She smirked at him, eyes flicking down to where she was touching him before she let them lazily slide up his body, imitating the way he’d looked at her before.

He blinked once, hard, and abruptly stood, dragging her up with the arm wrapped around her. His hook caught her wrist and brought it down to her side, yanking her hard against his side.

“Come now, my dear. I do believe we should finish this elsewhere,” he ducked his head and growled next to her ear. 

Emma felt _giddy_ , like she was sneaking away with her first boyfriend to fuck in a closest at school. 

Not that she had ever done that or anything.

But instead of heading for the doors that would lead them outside and back to their bed, he made a sharp turn, heading for the restrooms. He didn’t say anything, just cast one quick glance around the empty hall before dragging her inside with him.

His mouth was on hers, hot and hungry, before the door had even fully closed behind them. Emma felt herself spinning and then her back hit the door and she welcomed it, sliding her hands up his shoulders and into his hair as she pulled him against her. He groaned into her mouth and slid his hand out of her dress, dragging it across her covered chest and then down between her legs, easily slipping her dress up her thighs. When his fingers found her underwear she swore his knees nearly buckled against her, and she bucked her hips against his hand, reveling in the way his fingers frantically slipped against her soaked panties.

“God, I _knew_ you were sitting there, ready and waiting for me to just _have_ you,” he muttered against her lips, his fingers circling over her covered clit. 

“You gonna keep talking, or are you gonna fuck me?” she threw back, a challenge. He bared his teeth at her in response. Brushing aside her underwear, he sunk two fingers into her, all the way to his knuckles, making her keen, the high sound covered by the music outside.

“What do you think?” he growled, roughly twisting the digits inside of her. She dropped her head back against the door, hitching her leg up enough to grant him better access. 

He took advantage of her position to drop his lips to her neck, licking and nipping at the skin. It felt amazing, glorious, perfect, everything she always felt with him, and more. There was a thrill chasing its way across her skin, itching and tugging, and god, she remembered her first thoughts, spreading him out and sinking down on him. 

They didn’t exactly have a bed at their disposal, but she could make it work. 

She reached between them and yanked on his wrist, pulling him out of her, resisting the urge to moan at the loss. She trailed his hand along her dress, over her thighs and stomach before finding the bottom of her neckline, dragging his still-wet fingers across her skin, painting herself. Finally, she reached her mouth and sucked them in, swirling her tongue around the fingers. Moaning a little, she couldn’t help but smirk when his mouth slipped open, jaw going slack as he watched her, transfixed.

After licking and sucking them completely clean, she lowered their hands and pushed away from the door, sauntering over to a stall, dragging him along with her. Slowly, she backed him further into the small enclosure, until his knees hit the toilet and she shoved his shoulders down, pushing him 

Surely he knew what was coming, but his breathing still stuttered when she planted her hands firmly on his thighs and slowly pressed them apart, lowering herself down into a squat. With her dress still hiked up from his earlier ministrations, she knew he was getting a good look at her crooked underwear and just how wet she was. If she looked half as debauched as she felt, it had to be quite the sight.

His eyes dropped down her body, lingering between her spread legs. Already his eyelids had drooped, focused entirely on her. 

She had to resist the urge to smirk. Finally, a little pay-back. 

Her hands were on his knees now, and she used them as leverage to lean forward until she was pressing her face against his crotch, nuzzling at his hard length through his jeans. His hips jolted and he hissed, his hand dropping to her head, though he made no move to pull her closer or push her away.

“Fuck,” he blurted out when she opened her mouth and pressed it against him, the warmth radiating off of him in waves. She scraped her teeth along the rough fabric, and he dropped his head back, chin tilted towards the ceiling, his breathing coming faster now. “Gods, are you planning on teasing me all night, woman?”

Emma chuckled and nipped playfully at the fabric before pulling away.

“Of the two of us, I’d say you’re the one guilty of _teasing_ , you know.” Still, she shifted her fingers forward up his legs until they were bracketing his hips. Squeezing lightly, she chuckled when he growled at her, his eyes falling forward so he could look up her dress again. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” she added, lowering her voice to a husky murmur.

His fingers tightened in her hair and she drifted her fingers over to his crotch until she reached the button, quickly yanking his pants open. He shifted his hips and she shoved them down his thighs, finally exposing him to her.

She did smirk at the sight of him, red and hard and straining for her. He looked like something out of porn, his hair a wild mess from her fingers, buttons on his shirt snapped open(she didn’t remember doing that, but it had to have happened at some point), his pants yanked down, his cock hard and throbbing against his stomach as he watched her carefully. Blinking carefully, she committed the image to memory, adding it to the multitude of things she already found difficult to concentrate on. 

“Emma,” he groaned weakly, trying to pull her towards him. Instead, she rose smoothly, pushing off of his hips so she could stand. He started when she placed one heeled foot on the edge of the toilet between his legs, but when she reached between her legs to find her mess of underwear, his eyes widened and followed the path of her fingers. 

Slowly, she hooked her fingers around the soaked center and pulled it down, inch by inch. Once it reached her thighs, she dropped her leg and shimmied out of them, yanking them off of her heels one side at a time.

Letting the lace dangle between her fingers, she sauntered back between his legs, and, without warning, wrapped her hand firmly around him, trapping her panties against his cock.

“Fuck, Emma,” he stuttered, his voice dropping out in the middle when she squeezed lightly and swept her thumb over the head, coating it in wetness. Slowly, she drew her hand up and down, her touch gentle and barely there. His hips stuttered against her and his mouth fell open, eyes lidded and focused on her lips (or possibly her breasts, it was impossible to tell because both were in his line of sight).

“Ah, darling,” he gasped, sucking in air, “if you want this to last, you had better stop moving you bloody hand _right now_ , or so help me, I’ll _ruin_ that dress of yours and paint your skin mine.” He jerked up into her hand one last time, and she obligingly gave him one last pump, dragging her underwear along with her when she pulled away. 

She stepped over his legs and slid down on his lap, her dress bunched up at her stomach as she rocked against him, tilting her hips until her wetness was rubbing against him. Switching the panties to her left hand, she clutched at his neck with them, rubbing the evidence of both their arousal into his skin. He growled and twitched his neck, leaning forward to capture her mouth in a heavy kiss, his lips moving against hers almost punishingly as his tongue thrust against her. 

Bracing herself with the hand against his neck, she reached between them and slowly lifted herself up enough to press him into her. He growled and rasped out her name, nearly letting out a yell when she dropped herself down on him suddenly, bringing them flush and close in and instant.

“Now really isn’t the time for teasing,” she gasped, rocking her hips. She was desperate to maintain some sense of control, even though she could feel herself losing it in the press of his cock inside her, burning her from the inside out, stretching her far further and faster than she was used to. He muttered his agreement and shifted his hand to her bare hip, shoving her dress up further so he could grip her tightly. His hips rocked against her, changing the angle with every movement, and god, she felt like she was flying. It was amazing.

She clung to him, her hand pressing into the side of his neck while her other scrabbled against his shirt collar, desperate to find anything to ground her. Her fingers brushed warm metal and she found it, slipping her hand inside to press against his chest and the ever-present necklace that hung there. She clutched at it, squeezing the pendant tight even as she yanked him closer, attacking his mouth. 

He groaned and circled his arm around her, bringing them both closer together as he continued to circle his hips against her. Deciding it was finally time for her to get back to managing the situation, she lifted herself up just enough to meet his next thrust, slamming down on his hips hard. Picking up the pace, she continued to rock her hips against him, taking over as she felt him get nearer and nearer beneath her.

She wanted to scream, to cry, to whimper his name into his skin, but she didn’t gritting her teeth instead and again yanking on his necklace to bring them together. This time, he kissed her, drawing it out, passion mingling with every breath. He rotated his hips and slid his hand down her hip and between her legs, thumb brushing against her clit as he pressed a finger next to his cock, nudging at her entrance, stretched tight around him.

Unsure if he could actually fit, she shuddered and shook on him, her rhythm faltering when he pressed again, and then he was inside of her, his finger pressing against that sweet spot inside of her with every shift of his hips. His thumb circled her, the pressure increasing as he devoured her mouth and thrust into her as best he could from the angle.

Before she knew it, she could feel her orgasm building, the delicious squeeze of him inside of her and the way he was making her fall apart clashing in a wicked way, pulling her apart at the seams. She came hard, slamming him home as she released his necklace and slapped her hand over her mouth, barely containing her yell. 

He took advantage of her sudden bliss to shift his hand out of her and back to her hip, leveraging her up enough so he could continue to slam home inside of her, each thrust becoming faster and faster until he too came, his face desperately buried against the skin of her neck and chest to prevent any sound from escaping. 

They collapse against each other, breathing heavy as they struggle to regain some semblance of control.

Emma speaks first. “Fuck, I don’t think I’m gonna be able to sit in there and _not_ think of this.”

He chuckled against her neck and pressed a soft kiss to her skin. “Aye, I doubt I’ll have an easy time of it either, thinking of how warm and inviting you were…” his words trailed off as his hand rubbed a circle on her thigh.

“Ugh, fuck you,” she murmured, sliding off of him and tottering to her feet as he pulled his pants up again. “You just came and you’re still a goddamn tease.”

Grinning, he stood and wrapped his arm around her, pulling her flush against him. “For you love? I’ll be whatever you want.” He nipped playfully at her lips and slid his hand and hook down her ass, pressing her dress down even as he pulled her harder against him.

She rolled her eyes and slid her fingers down to his buttons, quickly doing them back up to where they had been before. Finally, when she was sure that both their clothing had been sorted, she pushed open the door to the stall and stepped out, examining herself in the mirror.

“Do we look at least somewhat presentable?”

His hand came around her waist, pulling her back against him like he couldn’t get enough of her touch. 

“Oh, no, darling, I think you look like you’ve been quite thoroughly fucked,” he whispered into her neck, sucking at the skin and letting go just shy of creating a mark. She hummed and allowed herself to lean back against him, enjoying the simple intimacy of the moment.

It was nice, being with him, and for more than just the sex. He was different and yet still the same, utterly insufferable and charming, yet there were times when he wrapped his arms around her and she felt _safe_ , loved, content. When he woke up in the middle of the night to find her staring off into space and would wordlessly collect her in his arms, urging her into his lap and against his chest so he could surround her with just how not alone she was. 

After a long moment, she sighed, forcing herself away from thoughts of them. They’d already been gone longer than they should have been, and if nobody had noticed it would be a miracle. 

Turning to him, she brushed her lips across his and pulled away, heading for the door. 

“I leave, give it a good ten count, and then you can follow me out. I’ll be in our seats.”

She slipped out and started counting down in her head, knowing there was no way he’d be able to wait once he realized…

As if on cue, his arm snaked around her waist, his body a warm presence against her side. His voice sounded strained when he spoke, and she could feel his fingers digging into her side.

“Emma, love, has anyone told you that you’re a _very_ dirty girl?” The words ghosted across her ear and she resisted the urge to shudder. Carefully extracting herself from his grip she sat down, daintily pulling her dress down her legs.

“Not really,” she said, flashing him a grin. He watched her, eyes narrowed, and she decided that was a perfect time to cross her legs, hitching one knee over the other. His eyes followed the movement, the line of her thigh and the way her dress pulled. 

He fell into the chair next to her with a huff, his hand finding its way to her leg.

“Careful. Don’t go showing the rest of the world what’s mine,” he whispered against her neck, his fingers digging into her thigh.

“Oh, I don’t know, I thought this would just make things easier later, when we get back home again…” her eyes flickered down to his lips, and she smirked.

He grinned in response, and kissed her cheek, the innocence of it contrasting starkly with his words.

“When we get back home again, I’m going to stuff these underwear in your mouth and bend you over the bed. So I suppose that does make things easier, doesn’t it?”

She smiled and straightened her spine, pushing her shoulders back. Meeting his gaze evenly, she grinned.

“Game on, then, pirate.”


End file.
